


Gentleness

by NeversideFaerie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cute Ending, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Fluff and Humor, Galra Royal family, Humor, Kid!Lotor, Married Life, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Self-Reflection, pre-quintessence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 17:59:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14699391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeversideFaerie/pseuds/NeversideFaerie
Summary: *VLD S3 SPOILERS* Young Prince Lotor is messing around with his parents before dinner and their innocent game causes Zarkon to reflect on his life choices. (AU fic)





	Gentleness

Honerva walked into her living room, carrying some not-too-bulky equipment to do a few alchemy experiments later that evening. She expected to be greeted by her little son Lotor, which would inevitably result in a hug to the legs and thus a terrific struggle on her part to prevent her apparatus from crashing to the floor, but thankfully today the young prince was engaged in some kind of game with his father…or at least, that’s what she assumed.  
Lotor was clutching his toy wooden sword he had received for his birthday (it had taken quite a bit of coaxing on Honerva’s part to convince Zarkon that a metal one wouldn’t be appropriate for him to play with – especially if it wasn’t blunt!) and was being chased around the room by Emperor Zarkon, who was still clad in his Paladin armour (minus the helmet). Lotor ran to where his mother was standing and placed a hand on her skirt, holding out his sword in front of him protectively.  
“Stay back!” he ordered, “There’s a scary monster on the loose.” Despite being the equivalent of four years old, the Prince was rather well-spoken and had a clear-cut English accent.  
“Oh, I see…” responded Honerva, internally calculating how fast she could deliver her bundle to her personal lab once her husband and son eventually became distracted enough for her to make her escape.  
“Mmmm…I smell a tasty Paladin,” said Zarkon with a chuckle, approaching his young son and crouching down to his level.  
“I will slay you, ferocious beast!” cried Lotor, charging at his father. He struck him with the wooden sword several times, making the Emperor roar exaggeratedly in pain.   
Honerva mouthed “thank you” to her husband and snuck off to her lab while the Prince continued his game. After Lotor had finished striking him, Zarkon clutched his side and stumbled around the room, before collapsing to the floor. “You’ve really got me this time, young Paladin,” he said in mock agony. He then closed his eyes and lay completely still.  
“Did I really kill you?” asked Lotor, walking up to him to investigate, unconsciously lowering his sword. He tentatively reached out to touch his father’s chest-plate, when suddenly Zarkon’s hand shot up and grabbed his arm. Lotor shrieked.  
“Now I’ve got you, Paladin!”  
“No! Let go of me!” cried the little Prince.  
Zarkon got back onto his feet and rose to his full height, lifting his son onto his shoulder. “I’m going to take you back to my lair.”  
“No! Put me down!” Lotor kicked and thrashed, but he could not escape from his father’s iron grip.  
Zarkon walked over to the sofa (which he had designated as his “lair”) and thrust down his son, keeping him pinned down as he sat beside him.  
“You’ll make a delicious meal, young Paladin.” Zarkon leaned over threateningly.  
“Oh no! Please don’t eat me!” cried Lotor, half-laughing. His father started pretending to take bites out of him, the Prince squealing and giggling, trying to push him away. “Stop! Please!”  
“There is no escape! I’m going to gobble you all up!” Zarkon took a few more bites out of his son, before Lotor managed to pull his arm out of his father’s grasp, freeing his sword. He jabbed his father’s chest-plate, making Zarkon growl in pain once more, placing his hands over his imaginary wound. Lotor escaped while he could, but it wasn’t long before his father started lumbering after him.  
By this time Honerva had put away her equipment and had just returned to watch the fun. Lotor swiped with his sword, keeping back the roaring monster.   
Zarkon went out of character for a moment and said, “Guard the beautiful princess!”  
Lotor went over to his mother and slipped his hand into hers, wielding his sword with the other. “I will save you, beautiful princess!”  
Honerva crouched down to his level. “Oh thank you, brave Paladin!”  
Zarkon positioned himself on all fours, growling and clawing the carpet. Lotor let go of his mother’s hand and ran over to the monster, whom he jabbed once more with the sword. Zarkon roared and swiped with his sharp, claw-like nails. Lotor continued to fight until he managed to stab the beast through the heart – or rather, slide his sword under one of Zarkon’s arms (Do Galra have their heart on the right or left side of the body? What if they have two or more hearts?!) causing his father to give his most spectacular performance yet, howling and clutching his side, before pretending to drop dead. Lotor waited a few seconds to make certain the monster really had been slain this time before running back to his mother.  
“You’re safe now, princess!”  
Honerva embraced him in a loving cuddle. For a few seconds it seemed like the mighty Paladin Lotor was completely safe…but then she whispered in his ear, “What if I’m not really a beautiful princess?”  
“What are you then?” Lotor drew away from her face cautiously.  
“What if I’m actually a wicked witch in disguise?” Honerva cackled gently.  
“Oh no!”  
“A wicked witch who can turn you into an ugly toad!” She gestured to the Prince. “Abracadabra!” (Or whatever the Altean equivalent would be!)   
“Noooooo!” wailed Lotor, fleeing from her grasp, almost running straight into the supposedly slain monster, who was now back on his knees. “Oh no!” he half-laughed.   
Zarkon grabbed him into a bear hug. “I’ve got you now, little Paladin! You’ll make a tasty snack!” He gave the Paladin a good sniff and then looked rather confused. “You smell like a toad!”  
“A wicked witch turned me into a toad,” responded Lotor.  
Zarkon let go of him. “Urgh! I don’t eat toads!”   
Honerva snorted with laughter.  
“I don’t want to be a toad! I like being a Paladin.”  
“Come here, my little toad!” Zarkon lunged for him.  
Lotor squealed and tried to run away, but Zarkon managed to pounce on top of him, crushing him beneath his hulking figure. Suddenly Lotor’s peals of innocent laughter turned into a scream of pain. Zarkon prised himself off his little son, a look of sheer horror upon his face.   
Underneath him, the young Prince had burst into tears and was in a rather crumpled position. Honerva expected him to run to her arms, but for some reason he remained on his front, seemingly unable to move. She reached under his arms and lifted him up, seating him upon her lap. Lotor buried his face in her work clothes, his face red and raw.  
“I’ve warned you before not to play with Lotor in your armour!” scolded Honerva, “At this rate he’ll need his own suit of armour.”  
Zarkon looked sheepish. Lotor’s sword lay discarded at his knees.  
“Where does it hurt?” asked Honerva. Lotor was sobbing too much to answer. “Where does it hurt?” repeated Honerva.   
Lotor peeled his face off her uniform. “My legs.”  
Honerva examined his legs, getting him to kick them up and down. She looked underneath his trouser legs and fingered his newly acquired bruises. “I don’t think you’ve broken anything.”  
Lotor pointed to his toes. “My feet hurt too.”  
Honerva took off one of his shoes and inspected his toes. “Can you still move them?”  
Lotor shook his head. Honerva scooped the little boy into one of her arms and rose to her full height. “I think we need to visit the nurse, young man.”  
…  
Later that day, Zarkon’s servants had prepared supper and the other Paladins were now seated around the table.   
“What could be keeping Zarkon?” asked King Alfor, to no-one in particular. He was wearing his casual tunic and was seated between the Queen and his daughter, who was the equivalent of nine years old.  
“Maybe him and his missus are having a little one-on-one time,” suggested Blaytz, “You know…after a long day’s work, they’re probably in need of a good long romantic chat and a smooch.” He then winked at an attractive servant, who returned the favour.  
“It is more possible Honerva is still occupied with her experiments,” responded Trigel, her eyes on her tablet, upon which she was reading something. Blaytz thought it was probably a romantic novel of some variety (she might not show it, but he couldn’t help wondering if his colleague secretly had a soft spot for the mushy-gushy stuff), although any of the other Paladins would have supposed (probably more accurately) that it was research of some kind.  
Before the others at the table had a chance to add more speculations to the pool, the doors inside one of the many corridors extending from the great dining hall opened. In stepped Zarkon, carrying his little son in his arms, Honerva at his side. However, instead of sporting his cumbersome burgundy armour that he usually wore when not in his Paladin suit, he was wearing a modestly decorated tunic in the colours of his armour, underneath which was a long-sleeved white t-shirt. He was also wearing a thick belt and there was a knee-length cape protruding from the back of his robe. Perhaps most noticeably of all, his head was bereft of his crown; a rare sight to behold outside the comfort of his quarters.  
He placed the prince on a chair before taking his seat at the head of the table, his wife and son on either side. It was only then that he noticed the odd looks he was getting from the others at the table. Trying to ignore them, he broke the ice by mentioning the mission they had gone on earlier and before long the other Paladins were involved in a discussion about diplomatic meetings with the Bombalian people, seemingly forgetting about Zarkon’s unconventional attire. The servants began bringing various dishes to the table and eventually the conversation became more light-hearted and jovial, with the guests sharing recent anecdotes and laughing about each other’s follies.  
“Oh man! I don’t think my fins will ever recover from getting stuck under that rock.” Blatyz nursed his head.   
Lotor tried to respond but Trigel interjected first. “You should have taken my advice and worn your helmet. You have no-one to blame but yourself.”  
“The sea witch is nearly blind!” Blaytz defended, “She’d never have recognised me if I’d worn it.”  
Trigel raised an eyebrow and turned her eyes back to her tablet, signalling to Lotor that now was his chance. “Earlier, I was playing with Papa and I broke one of my toes.”  
Blaytz turned to the Prince. “Tell me all about it, little guy! What were you and Zarkon doing this time? Fighting robots? Rescuing princesses?” He winked.  
“Mama pretended to be a princess but then she was a wicked witch and she turned me into a toad and Papa was a monster. He squashed me under his armour.”  
Zarkon caught what he was saying and turned bright mauve.  
“So that’s how you got your battle injury, huh?” Blaytz arched his pointer finger over his chin thoughtfully.   
“Mama took me to the nurse and she said I’ll be all better in a month.”  
King Alfor had actually heard everything Lotor had said, but hadn’t given any impression he was eavesdropping. However, a few seconds after the Prince had finished speaking, he suddenly burst out laughing. His wife and daughter raised their eyebrows. Gyrgan paused, having been about to chomp through yet another chicken leg.   
King Alfor then stopped laughing as abruptly as he had started. “Carry on…” He picked up his fork and took another bite of his dinner. Gyrgan sank his teeth into the chicken drumstick, still looking at the King rather suspiciously.   
Zarkon was about to say something when he noticed Honerva had placed a hand over her mouth to stop herself from giggling. She took hold of his fingers with her other hand and gave them a squeeze. Zarkon squeezed them back, but was careful to be very gentle. His wife and child were so much smaller and more delicate than himself. It was so difficult to avoid being too rough with them at times. He watched his son continue to converse with Blaytz about innocent follies he’d got himself into over the last few days. That same little boy was a product of the love he had for Honerva and the tender intimacy he shared with her. It had been a challenge to adjust himself to accommodate her needs, but it had really paid off. Seeing their Prince grow and learn and interact with others…it was beautiful, just like everything about his relationship with her.  
As a father, he knew it was his duty to keep his wife and son safe at all costs. With that being said, the soft robes he was wearing at the moment weren’t much of a cost. Neither was being gentle with Honerva during all their most personal moments. In fact, you could say it was no sacrifice at all…


End file.
